


Marking Time at Rex's

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [98]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-26
Updated: 2007-03-26
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marking midterms way past midnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marking Time at Rex's

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex and Ula
> 
> Three previous stories were set at the diner: [Two Straws](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1831762) (Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan), [Rex's Diner](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1819459) (Quinn/Ian): Arcadia # 46, and [Extra Credit](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1952454) (Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan).

11:38 pm, diner standard time.  
  
When Ian and Quinn walked into Rex's Diner with midterms weighing down their briefcases, Flo raced over to greet them, auburn ponytails flying behind her. Her metallic makeup complemented her silver and copper outfit, which fit as if it had been molded onto her. She swivelled her hips and winked at them as she said, "Hiya, fellas!", with a snap of her Orbit gum. The girl was on a roll today.  
  
Grinning, she led them to their favorite booth and handed out menus. She brought water, then stood by tapping her pencil while waiting for their order. The vinyl creaked under their jeans as they read the specials.  
  
"Mmm. They've got spanakopita today. Can't pass that up." Ian took a sip from his grey spiral tumbler.  
  
"Sounds good. Make that two." Quinn handed their menus back to Flo with a smile, and opened his briefcase to take out his exams. The booth for four was just made for their grading marathons.  
  
Ian's fingers were drawn to the tear in the vinyl seat, always there, despite numerous attempts at patching it through the years. The foam yielded under his thumb satisfyingly as his sneakers scuffed over the tiles.  
  
When Quinn started to grade, Ian got out his papers and joined him while waiting for their Greek salads. Rex brought them over himself, along with a basket of pita bread and olive oil. He was so dextrous, he might as well have had four arms.  
  
"Hey, ol' buddies! Good to see you again. 'Nother exam, huh?" Rex's eyes creased with good humor.  
  
"There's always another exam." Quinn's crinkles were a match for Rex's.  
  
Rex left them to it with a rumbling chuckle.  
  
A bite of salad, a slash of red pen, a sip of water. This routine had seen them through countless tests. When Flo brought their spanakopita, Quinn was already halfway through the first question, with Ian a few papers behind.  
  
They stopped working temporarily to eat their food while it was still warm. Rex believed in generous portions. Six phyllo triangles were surrounded by stuffed grape leaves and lemon wedges on each plate.  
  
"Did they even read their assignments?" Ian didn't need the lemon to fuel his sour expression. "Thought everyone knew about Walden Pond."  
  
Quinn's eyes twinkled. "No worries, lad. This'll probably be your last semester of Intro Lit." Ian's tenure process was finally grinding to a halt, and it looked like approval was imminent.  
  
"Can't wait, Quinn. I'd like a chance to teach Wilde."  
  
Quinn smiled delightedly. He remembered the Ian of years past saying, "I've never taught a novel with gay themes before." How far they both had come!  
  
This was precisely what tenure was all about, Quinn reflected. Academic freedom, to match the personal freedom they'd achieved at such cost.  
  
Quinn said, "That's always been my favorite seminar. I'm glad we took the class to see Gregory and Gleason on Broadway. What a treat!"  
  
"Yeah, that was great. Who knows, by the time I get to teach it, there may be a revival."  
  
"Hope so, laddie. I'd love to see it again."  
  
They finished their entrees, and Flo zoomed over to clear the table. Now it was time for Rex's coffee, just the right caffeine buzz for more grading. But the dessert case across the aisle presented its usual distraction for Quinn. This time, he fell to the lure of Black Forest cake, the combination of chocolate and cherries too much for him to resist.  
  
Flo winked at them again when she brought over one plate with two forks. Gone were the days when self-consciousness had prevented them from enjoying a shared dessert. With the colossal portions at the diner, many people did the same thing anyway. They dug right in, a smile on Quinn's lips as he speared a cherry, and heard Ian's voice in his long-ago dream, "Next time, you'll get the cherry."  
  
As Quinn had always suspected, Ian must have had the rudiments of telepathy because he chose that moment to grin rakishly at him. Mercifully, Flo hadn't given them whipped cream this time. Though comfortable with showing his love for Ian in public now, Quinn never wanted to reveal his desire for him anywhere but behind closed doors.  
  
Ian gave him a little nod, as if understanding this, too, and remembered not to lick his fork. Quinn's eyes crimpled in appreciation of his lad's adaptibility. They settled in to savor each bite as the reward it was for their hard work. After the last forkful, their papers beckoned once more, and they lost themselves in calculating partial credit.  
  
The ceiling fan blew cool over bare forearms, stirring little hairs and rustling papers in their piles. Ian held down his graded stack with the napkin holder, while Quinn used an extra bread plate. They tuned out the clatter of bussed dishes and silverware, Flo's banter with her other regulars, and Rex's occasional bark from the kitchen.  
  
Eventually, Ian stretched with a yawn and the spell was broken. They'd gone about 30% through their exams, and completely through their patience. Time to go home.  
  
Ian paid by MasterGuard, including a generous tip for Flo, which got her humming. Then they repacked their briefcases, fingers more sluggish than before. They headed for the Audi with heavy feet.  
  
3:26 am. The lights of the diner shone on through the night. 


End file.
